


Beauty From Pain

by rightonthelimit



Category: Glee
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon, Angst, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Masturbation, Psychologist!Blaine, Self-Harm, Sexual Content
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-10-22
Updated: 2012-10-22
Packaged: 2017-11-16 20:09:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,928
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/543360
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rightonthelimit/pseuds/rightonthelimit
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Because Kurt gets bullied all the time, he winds up falling into a depression and starts hurting himself. When his dad finds out he makes Kurt see a therapist named Blaine Anderson. Will he be able to save Kurt from himself?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Beauty From Pain

**A/N: Please do not repost, recreate or translate.**

**Beauty From Pain**

It started as an accident.

Kurt hissed in pain when blood welled up from a small cut on his pale hand. He had just been picking up the shards of a mirror he had knocked off his boudoir when one piece punctured his skin, a jolt of pain going through him. He tried to press the wound shut, watching as blood bubbled up and rolled over his pale skin, contrasting and making it look like his skin was a mere canvas. It fascinated Kurt – in a way, it was poetic to be bleeding on the outside when he felt like he was shriveling up from the inside.

But then again, every single one of his problems had started out small. Innocent – like there had been nothing too bad about them. The bullying, for example, had started with the occasional insult flung in his direction.

‘ _Hey, fag!_ ’ Karofsky, one of his bullies, would say and Karofsky’s friends would all laugh and high-five him like he had just said something exceedingly witty. It was hurtful, but Kurt no longer had the energy to stand up for himself.

But then the bullying had turned into getting locked up in empty locker rooms and having to wait for the janitor to let him out at night, getting shoved into walls and lockers, and it had slowly turned into Kurt getting beaten up when he least expected it.

And that was starting to cause other problems.

His issues had started with mere trembling whenever he stood in front of more than 3 people – feeling intimidated by their sole presences. Kurt would stutter, stumble over his own words and he would get so nervous that he had to vomit at the mere thought of having to face a large crowd.

Kurt had always thought it hadn’t been that big of a deal and he told himself that he was strong. That he would have to learn how to deal with it, because he still was Kurt Hummel and they couldn’t beat or scare the gay out of him.

His anxiety had slowly turned into a more serious problem in which he would flinch away whenever someone would touch him or would make an unexpected movement or sound. Kurt still refused to admit something was wrong – he was just a bit jumpy. That’s all. Nothing more or less.

His jumpiness had turned into  _disaster_ today. Kurt hadn’t been capable of breathing properly when he had been standing in front of a classroom door, mortified of the mere thought of getting in because there were  _people_ behind that door. There were people who would look up when he would walk in. They would smile if they were one of his few friends and talk to him, or they would threaten him if they were Karofsky or one of Karofsky’s friends.

Kurt had abruptly turned around in that knowledge and driven himself home, his entire body trembling as he just couldn’t understand  _why_ this had to happen to him when he had never hurt anyone.

But now, seeing his blood and a wound inflicted by his own hand, not Karofsky’s… It felt like some sort of proof that he was still in control of his own life. Proof that he was still alive, somewhere, hidden beneath all these tears and pain and insecurities.

That he was so much more than all of these fears.

Kurt sunk down onto the floor, glanced at his door to see if it was still shut and he experimentally grabbed another mirror shard. He winced and bit his lip when he hesitantly slid the sharp object over his wrist. It stung and the pain was drawn out – unlike the sudden explosions of pain Karofsky inflicted on him whenever he punched or kicked Kurt.

At first Kurt thought it hadn’t worked, that he hadn’t pressed down hard enough but then blood started bubbling up again, rolling gently over his wrist. Kurt watched in fascination and felt some strange sense of power wash over him again. This time it felt stronger because he had done it  _intentional_  – the first time had been an accident.

It hurt, but it felt good.

Kurt dragged his fingers through his blood and stared at them, still fascinated when he brought his fingers up to eye level. He sniffed – it was scentless. And then he licked his fingers clean.

It was coppery, and quite unlike the taste he had somehow expected his blood to have after having read so many vampire novels that always described blood to be tasting of the sweetest wine, the most addictive ambrosia. It wasn’t, but in a way Kurt found it fitting that he tasted as disgusting on the inside as people told him he was on the outside. Like he was bleeding out everything that made him wrong, filthy and ugly in their eyes.

Kurt had read of people doing this to themselves before and it had always intrigued him because before he never understood why pain would be so significant to someone to the point where they would permanently mark their bodies. Kurt had actually found it silly and he had always thought only attentionwhores or kids who tried to be hardcore did it.

But…

Kurt sucked on his index finger for a moment before grabbing the piece of mirror and repeating the act. Again, and again. Watching as blood poured from his wound, feeling how his hand tingled around the shard. His bottom lip started to ache from biting it so hard, but he still didn’t stop.

Kurt had always tried to distract himself from everything by obsessing over fashion and popping a DVD into his DVD player or laptop when he felt like crying so that he could pretend that fiction was all that existed. It had worked most of the time.

Kurt liked watching couples say their ‘I love you’s’ in millions of different ways and seeing the main character getting saved at the very last moment when all seemed lost. He liked running his fingers over the expensive fabrics of the clothes he had bought on eBay, loved the smell of new shoes.

But the loneliness was getting to him.

And pain was just so much more  _real_.

 

* * *

Burt Hummel found out about his son’s depression when Kurt finally broke down in front of him one day, bruised up and his bottom lip split from the abuse he had received from one of his bullies.

Kurt hadn’t told him everything. He hadn’t told his dad that Karofsky had threatened to kill him, hadn’t told him they threw him into dumpsters every day. All Burt Hummel knew was that Kurt was constantly scared and that he didn’t want to live on like this anymore, and that was what brought Kurt into this waiting room filled with people who looked positively insane.

Kurt felt shame for having to see a therapist.

He had always carefully hidden all of his problems, kept his lips sealed like they were some sorts of disgusting secrets. Kurt didn’t  _want_ help because he didn’t want people to pity him and he didn’t want to feel hope that things would be okay again because they just  _wouldn’t_.

Kurt was 16 years old, was just comfortable with being gay, hated who he saw staring back at him when he looked at the mirror. It didn’t matter how often he changed his hairstyle or how many skin treatments he underwent and it didn’t matter what clothes he wore. Cutting himself had slowly become the only way of coping with everything. His wrists started to itch as if they were begging to be hurt and Kurt fought the urge to scratch them. He had been wondering to himself if he should stop cutting his wrists and move to his thighs instead, since his dad didn’t know and Kurt didn’t want him to find out in the summer when he’d wear t shirts either.

Kurt always made sure to keep from  cutting too deep -  he preferred a lot of light cuts over deep ones so that he wouldn’t get any scars and he used ointments to keep his skin smooth. He was almost as obsessed with tending to his self-inflicted wounds as he was with creating them, wanting to be as perfect as he could be for a man he hadn’t met yet – a man who would one day be his lover.

If Kurt would end up being together with someone at all, that is.

Sometimes he didn’t even have hope for that anymore. It all seemed so unreal, especially if he was truly as disgusting as he was told. Kurt violently flinched when Burt’s hand landed on top of his and his head whirled around, eyes wide when he stared into his father’s eyes.

‘It’ll be fine, Kurt,’ the man promised him, because he couldn’t possibly know what Kurt felt. He couldn’t possibly  _understand_. But it still pulled at Kurt’s heartstrings, because his dad was really trying and this man was the only one who really gave a damn about him. It just broke Kurt’s heart to think that one day, he would lose him.

‘I know,’ Kurt lied and he felt his tense shoulders relax a bit when his blue eyes averted to the other people in the waiting room. There was a girl who had been constantly staring at him and a boy that seemed about 10 years old and was constantly talking to his mother who seemed to be suffering a mental breakdown. He glanced to his side, where another girl was sketching hurriedly and then back to the untouched stack of magazines on the coffee table in the center of the room.

Kurt had already flipped through the issue of Vogue lying on top of the stack. It was an old issue of about a year ago and Kurt suspected the magazines had belonged to patients (God, that was what Kurt was, wasn’t he? A patient?) who had accidentally left them behind.

There was a board on the wall as well, with flyers and announcements (‘ _please turn off your cell phone_ ’, ‘ _visit our website for more information about anxiety attacks_ ’) pinned to it .

Kurt just really, really wanted to go home.

He didn’t know what to expect of a therapist. Would he ask Kurt how things made him feel, like they did in movies? Would his therapist, a man named Blaine Anderson, stare at him from over his glasses and release a pitying sigh every now and then? Would he scribble down the things Kurt said or would he pretend to do so and just use the time to doodle mindlessly in his notebook?

Kurt shifted nervously.

Even if he doubted this would help, he told himself to at least try. Kurt really  _did_ want to get better – he didn’t want to remain this unhappy. He didn’t want to wake up every morning without feeling any reason to get out of bed and he wanted to focus on his grades, truly. He still had his dreams, he still had his goals…

‘Kurt Hummel?’

Kurt’s fingers twitched from underneath his dad’s hand and Burt was the first to stand up. Kurt swallowed nervously – his hands were shaking, he realized. He slowly lifted his eyes from where they had been staring at the coffee table and stood up and when his eyes met the eyes of his therapist, he just froze up completely.

Blaine Anderson wasn’t old at all. He looked like he was in his mid-twenties, actually. His eyes were gentle and they were a peculiar shade of hazel. Blaine wasn’t even wearing any glasses and he was actually really attractive and Kurt appreciated how the man had taken the time to make his belt match with his shoes, though he had no idea why he would notice something so small, so insignificant about someone he barely knew and who was getting paid to listen Kurt say things he hadn’t even told anyone who he actually  _trusted_.

Right. Kurt was supposed to trust this man.

‘Burt Hummel, nice to meet you,’ his father said, and Blaine’s eyes flicked back to Burt and he smiled politely while they shook hands. A pleasant shiver ran down Kurt’s spine. Maybe this wouldn’t be so bad. So far Blaine seemed like a nice person…

‘Nice to meet you,’ Blaine said, and Kurt just… He really liked his voice. He shifted nervously when Blaine turned back to him and held out his hand.

‘Hello, I’m Blaine Anderson,’ he said uselessly and Kurt just nodded tensely.

‘Kurt – Kurt Hummel,’ he said rather uselessly as well. Of course the man knew who he was.

‘Well then, if you’d follow me, please,’ Blaine beckoned them to follow him into his office and they did; Burt squeezed Kurt’s shoulder encouragingly and Kurt licked his dry lips, watching the square line of Blaine’s shoulders. Blaine was a bit shorter than himself, not much. It was barely noticeable.

Blaine held the door for them open and smiled softly at Kurt when he walked past him. Kurt was unsure of how to behave himself so he kept his eyes trained on the floor and walked in, sitting into a chair next to his father.

‘Would you two like anything to drink?’

‘No thanks,’ Burt replied, and Kurt shook his head. Blaine nodded and sat down across them at his desk, smiling at them again. The teen was unsure if he should be comforted by his bright smile or a bit disturbed that the man found so much reason to smile, but in the end he just nervously smiled back.

For as much as he found it difficult to admit, he liked the Blaine’s smile. It made his eyes light up and it made him look younger than he actually was.

‘This is just going to be an introduction session where I’m going to discuss the problems you have been experiencing and get an overall view on both your thoughts on them so I can make a diagnosis. There will only be two times where I will request your presence, Mister Hummel, and that’s now and at the end of Kurt’s treatment. Alright?’

They both nodded, and Kurt’s eyes slid over the office. It was decorated rather nicely, actually – there was an arm chair in the far corner of the room and the walls were white, the floorboards matching with the bookstand standing next to the door. Quite unlike what he had been expecting. There was no classical music playing in the background either but he felt comforted by the silence somehow.

‘Kurt?’

‘Huh?’

Kurt blinked up from his thoughts to see Burt stare at him with a worried expression on his face, whereas Blaine looked intrigued.

‘I was just asking you what made you decide you wanted professional help,’ he stated, in that same polite tone that made Kurt wonder if he had worked with violent people before. Kurt had actually felt pretty normal compared to the other people that had been sitting in that waiting room. Like his problems hadn’t been worthy professional help.

‘Oh. Uhm. My dad wanted me to get… to see you, Mister Anderson,’ he replied, because he didn’t quite know how to speak with a therapist. Granted, the man was getting paid to listen to nutcases every day, but still…

‘You may call me Blaine, Kurt,’ the man offered him and he hummed and grabbed a notebook. Ah. So Kurt  _had_ been right about that. ‘And what made you think Kurt needed help, Mister Hummel?’

‘He just acts strange,’ he started bluntly, and Kurt winced at that, ‘never allowing me to do his laundry, very protective over his room, the way he reacts whenever I touch him and then I found out that  _kid_ is bullying him…’

Blaine hummed again in understanding and glanced at Kurt. ‘And why do you do that, Kurt?’

‘I don’t know,’ Kurt instantly lied. Burt released a frustrated sigh.

‘Why can’t you tell me what’s wrong with you?’

‘There’s nothing wrong with me. I’m fine. Absolutely fine.’

And it was a lie that he had used so many times that it came out without really thinking much. It had kind of become a reflex. Over time he had become so closed off that lying didn’t even feel that bad anymore – it was just a way of protecting himself for any questions, and a way to protect everyone that cared enough to ask for any awkward conversations. Because how does one explain that he needs to hurt himself in order to find proof that he was still alive, that his stubborn heart wouldn’t stop beating despite all the pain it had endured? How could he tell his dad that the reason why he skipped class was because he got such horrible panic attacks that he sometimes just forgot how to breathe?

‘Would you  mind giving me a few minutes alone with Kurt, mister Hummel?’ Blaine asked slowly, tentatively, and Burt seemed hesitant.

‘Just go, dad. He won’t eat me.’ The corner of Kurt’s mouth kicked up, but it wasn’t a smile on his face. It actually felt more like a grimace.

‘Alright,’ Burt finally said. He released a long sigh and stood up, glanced at Blaine as if warning him (though admittedly Kurt had no idea what for since Burt was  _paying_ Blaine to talk to Kurt) and left the office. Blaine stared at Kurt for a very long time before he released a long sigh and leaned back in his chair.

‘Your father is only worried about you. And I’m gonna be honest with you – I think he has every right to be.’ Kurt could feel his cheeks flush, hating how easily Blaine had noticed the signs. But then again – he had  _studied_ to recognize these things. ‘What are your problems, Kurt?’

Kurt didn’t reply to that, and instead found himself staring at Blaine’s mouth before he slowly dragged his face over his cupid’s bow, up to his nose, to his curly hair that was parted neatly…

Blaine merely stared at him, probably not at all fazed by the way Kurt was staring at him. Kurt wondered if Blaine had to put up with a lot worse from his patients, but he still couldn’t help but feel flustered at being caught. ‘You know I can’t help you if you don’t tell me everything.’

Kurt knew that, honestly. Which is why he had told himself to at least try. But, there was this thing inside of him that just screamed at him to close himself off completely, smile and pretend everything was okay.

So that was what he did. Kurt smiled.

‘I’m okay.’

‘Did you know that that’s the most common lie?’

Kurt’s smile slid off his face. People normally never continued asking questions after he said he was fine – not wanting to upset Kurt and assuming he would come to them if he needed a listening ear. Blaine just kept staring at him, making Kurt feel guilty for lying at him. For making Blaine’s job harder for him.

_For being a burden._

But wouldn’t telling Blaine make him even more of a burden?

_That’s what he’s getting paid for. If you tell him what’s wrong then his job will be easier and you will get to go home._

He licked his lips nervously and broke eye contact, staring at a particular interesting spot on the floor.

‘…I cut myself,’ Kurt murmured, and saying those words out loud made Kurt realize how  _wrong_ it was to do such things to himself. He had never said it out loud, never admitted it, never…

Blaine’s eyes didn’t widen at all. He didn’t gasp, he didn’t frown – he didn’t judge Kurt. Instead he stood up from where he sat and walked until he stood in front of Kurt. Kurt hesitantly looked up at Blaine and he realized he felt ashamed of himself.

Blaine’s hazel eyes were incredibly comforting and he honestly looked like Kurt could tell him everything, that anything coming from Kurt’s lips would be interesting to him. No one was actually as calm as Blaine was, and it was incredibly stupid since Kurt only knew him for about 15 minutes, but he  _wanted_  to tell him everything too. Wanted Blaine to help him.

‘My dad doesn’t know, and I don’t want him to know either,’ Kurt added and he took a shaky breath. It was difficult to say these things out loud.

‘That’s not all, is it?’ Blaine asked softly and his hand touched Kurt’s knee. Kurt didn’t flinch and he didn’t understand why – he had seen Blaine’s hand move, but normally the contact itself scared him. He felt completely safe in this room where tons of other people must’ve sat where Kurt was seated right now, where tons of other people had been graced with Blaine’s full attention. Where he had been looking at them like they were interesting and special.

‘No, it’s not,’ Kurt admitted and his hands dug into his thighs, fisting the fabric of his slacks. ‘I get bullied. There’s this guy, and he… he just hates me so  _much_ because I’m gay and he constantly beats me up.’ He heard how his voice cracked, but somehow he just couldn’t stop himself from talking, spilling out his heart because there was  _finally_ someone there to listen to him, someone who knew how to help him. ‘I can barely sleep at night and I hate myself so much – I’m disgusting, just like they say. The pain makes me feel like I’m – I’m still alive, like I’m strong because I can take the pain and I keep having panic attacks, too, and… no one… absolutely  _no one_ seems to notice.’

Feeling the tears stream down his face, he released a humorless laugh. ‘And it’s my fault. If I wasn’t gay, if I was more like them…’

Kurt trailed off and rubbed at his eyes. He didn’t feel much lighter after having spilt his secrets, his thoughts, even though he somehow expected to be. Everything felt just so much more real now that he was finally acknowledging what was wrong and it was so unfair.

Blaine sat down on the chair where Burt had sat not too long ago, the one next to Kurt, and Kurt sniffed and tried to relax.

‘Kurt, I want you to know that I won’t tell anyone. Even if I would want to – I can lose my job if I tell anyone anything that you told me in this room. Everything you tell me here is confidential, okay?’ Blaine’s eyes bored into his and Kurt didn’t understand why, but he just felt so calm when the man was staring at him like this. Maybe it was his attractive face, or the faint smell of coffee that lingered under his breath. Either way… Kurt nodded, feeling so much like a child all of a sudden.

‘May I see your cuts?’

Kurt’s eyes widened, and he vaguely wondered if he would’ve been more shocked or hesitant if Blaine would’ve asked him to drop his pants right then and there.

‘If it makes you uncomfortable I won’t ask you again,’ Blaine continued when he noticed the look in Kurt’s eyes, ‘but Kurt, I need to know how bad they are. I need you to be completely open and honest with me so I can help you. You’re  _not_ a lost cause, and I can see that you have potential. Just let me…’

Kurt slowly nodded and his hands trembled so badly that in the end Blaine had to help him roll up his sleeve. And even now when Blaine caught sight of the angry red lines on Kurt’s porcelain skin and the purple marks and the bruises in the shape of Karofsky’s fingers, he didn’t judge him.

He just nodded slowly at him.

‘You’re very brave, Kurt,’ he said softly after a while and Kurt sniffled again, feeling incredibly stupid. He barely knew this man, yet there he was – showing him parts of himself that he had so carefully hidden from people who he had known all of his life.  _Baring_ himself. ‘But do you know that… you can’t go on this way?’

Kurt nodded and he felt himself getting choked up again. He stubbornly rubbed at his eyes.

‘I-I know,’ he stammered and he felt like a child. A child that was neither getting chastised for sticking his hand in the cookie jar or getting punishment, but was getting told exactly  _why_ it was immoral to steal a cookie. That his greed was unreasonable and that other children at the other side of the world were  _starving_.

‘Do you want me to help you, Kurt?’

‘You’ll just be a disappointment like the rest was,’ Kurt said, mindful of the times he had tried stopping with hurting himself and of the times where he had thought Karofsky was finally done with him. ‘I’ll never… never get better, never be…’

‘I won’t disappoint you if you give me a chance,’ Blaine said softly. He placed his hand on Kurt’s shoulder and Kurt again didn’t flinch once at his touch. It just confused him so much. ‘Will you?’

‘I - okay. Yeah. Fine,’ Kurt murmured, accepting the tissue Blaine gave him and still feeling flustered and awkward. Blaine smiled softly at him.

‘Okay. Then if you’ll wait here I’ll go get your father and we’ll set up an appointment for next week. How does that sound?’

‘Looking forward to it,’ Kurt said, some of his wit coming back to him when he took a shaky breath. Blaine laughed and that  _did_ make Kurt feel lighter. He didn’t think he’d be capable of surviving all these sessions if they’d be like the past 10 minutes.

‘Maybe you aren’t, but I am. I’m looking forward to guiding you to becoming who you’re meant to be, not who you are forced to be because of the unfortunate circumstances.’ The look in his eyes was reassuring, and Kurt straightened up a bit and crossed his legs at his ankles, slowly rolling down his sleeve again and carefully hiding his arms from view. Blaine’s eyes lingered on him before he seemed to decide something.

‘And you’re not disgusting, Kurt. You’re an attractive young man and you’re going to go far. Don’t let anyone tell you different – because, and I say this from experience with my other patients, most people torment other people to hide their own insecurities.’

Kurt’s eyes widened and Blaine smiled at him.

He left the office and Kurt stared out in front of himself. No one had ever acknowledged Kurt as a young  _man_ … he had always been  _lady boy_ or just a boy to others…

It only dawned in on him now that there wasn’t a picture of a pretty girlfriend on Blaine’s desk, nor a wedding ring on his finger and that realization made Kurt smile for an unknown reason.

 

* * *

It turned out Kurt had developed a posttraumatic stress disorder from all the bullying, some self-esteem issue and a depression. Blaine didn’t want to give him any medication because he was still so young and he thought that talking would be enough. Kurt just decided to go with it. It wasn’t like he had a lot to lose anyway.

Kurt was currently standing in the girls’ bathroom, the only place where the jocks wouldn’t come looking for him. He pressed his back against the wall of a bathroom stall and locked the door, breaths coming out in shaky pants. They had been following him all day, making fun of him and calling him names. Scaring the living hell out of him. Intimidating him with their tall frames.

 He pressed a hand against his mouth and pulled his feet up when he sat down on the toilet seat, hoping they wouldn’t hear him. Which was silly because they wouldn’t come here. But that didn’t mean Kurt didn’t feel as though they would be everywhere, no matter where he’d go.

He closed his eyes and silently cried.

 

* * *

Kurt had another appointment with Blaine the following day. He walked into the office, feeling numb, like he was still asleep. He hadn’t slept at all last night, dreams of being beat up, of being killed and then dumped in the dumpsters outside the schoolbuilding haunting him and the need to hurt himself growing so bad he hadn’t been capable of resisting even though he knew that he should stop.

Why should it matter anyway? No one cared.

‘How are you today, Kurt?’ Blaine asked him softly and Kurt looked up as though he had forgotten the man existed. Blaine looked beautiful today. He always did. Always so kind and warm, everything the world outside this office wasn’t. Kurt wished Blaine could’ve been his friend at McKinley. It would’ve made everything so much more bearable to see him more than just once a week.

‘I’m fine.’

Blaine’s eyebrows knitted together. It was a lie he wasn’t willing to believe, obviously, but Kurt didn’t want to explain. He just wanted to sit here, bask in Blaine’s presence, try his hardest best not to cry or run his nails down his skin to just  _feel_ and then go home and lock himself up in his room.

‘Where did you get those bruises?’

Kurt’s hand raised to his face as though he didn’t know what Blaine was talking about. He did. They had all waited for him on the parking lot after school. Had gathered around and had started beating him so hard it hurt for Kurt to show any expression on his face. He didn’t want to know the state his chest was in, but as long as he hadn’t broken something he wouldn’t show anyone. And even then he would be reluctant to do so.

‘I don’t want to talk about it,’ he replied, his voice monotone. Blaine continued frowning at him and Kurt wanted to ask him why he should care what his face looked like. As long as Kurt would sit here every week he’d still get paid.

He realized that he was bitter because of that. That the only person he thought would give a damn was actually being paid to be a listening ear. He felt so ridiculous.

‘But-’

‘They beat me up, okay? They beat me up because I’m disgusting and different and gay and talk like a girl.’

Blaine’s eyes widened and Kurt just sat there, feeling miserable. He could feel the tears building in his eyes but he angrily blinked them away. Tears never solved anything, or so he had been told. If they would’ve Kurt would be in a happier place by now.

‘…is that what they told you or is that what you honestly believe?’ Blaine finally asked quietly. Kurt glanced up at him to see something achingly similar to pain in Blaine’s eyes.

Ridiculous. He didn’t care.

The worst was that Kurt didn’t know the answer to that. He thought it was a bit of both. Kurt’s silence seemed to be enough answer to Blaine and the elder male took a deep breath, running his hair through his hair.

‘If I told you right now that your sexuality doesn’t define you as a person, would you believe that too?’ Kurt shrugged and Blaine sighed again. ‘Do you remember what I said to you last time?’

Of course did. Kurt just kept repeating it in his head, trying to cling onto it because he had nothing else.

‘You’re just saying all of this because you get paid for it,’ Kurt murmured. He wasn’t willing to believe it and he thought it was cruel of Blaine to give him false hope. He was surprised when Blaine sat down on his haunches in front of him to meet his eyes. The male smiled sadly.

‘No, it’s not. I put up with the people who fantasize about killing their parents and think eating soap is normal because I get paid for it. I am still here because I want to help people who are special but too hurt to see it. People like you.’

Kurt stared at Blaine as though he had grown a second head.

‘Honesty, remember? That’s what makes our sessions helpful. Brutal honesty.’

‘They waited for me by my car and beat me up,’ Kurt admitted. Blaine’s eyes raked over Kurt’s frame, as if searching for any other wounds. Kurt hasn’t had the time to buy new concealer just yet, to cover the biggest bruises up.

‘What did your father say?’ Blaine finally asked, his voice a low whisper. Kurt found he didn’t mind that Blaine was so close. He was unsure if it was professional of Blaine, but he was okay with this.

‘I didn’t get home yet,’ Kurt admitted with a bitter smile playing at his lips and then he winced. His bottom lip was split. ‘I waited in my car in front of your building until it was time.’

‘But Kurt… that means you waited for an hour in your car.’

Kurt shrugged again and wrapped his arms around himself. ‘I wanted to see you,’ he admitted shamefully. ‘You seem so kind and you don’t judge me, and my dad… he’d go insane if he saw my bruises. It’s stupid.’

‘No, it’s not,’ Blaine said. He sunk down in the chair next to Kurt again and Kurt turned his head away, feeling himself shake. He didn’t know why. ‘Kurt… if I had known that you were out there I would’ve cancelled my meeting and skipped my lunch break, honestly, all you should’ve done was give me a call and-’

‘I can’t ask that of you,’ Kurt instantly said. Because he couldn’t. Blaine would be risking his job if he were to see Kurt outside of their appointments.

Blaine looked at him with a small frown on his lips before he reached for his notebook again. He scribbled down something and then tore it out, holding it out to Kurt.

‘Take it,’ he encouraged Kurt when Kurt looked at him with a confused look in his eyes. ‘It’s my personal phone number.’

‘But -’

‘I don’t care that this is unprofessional. Next time you need someone to talk to or need someone to pick you up when they’re waiting for you, just call me. Please.’ Blaine looked personally affected by this all and Kurt had to wonder at that. Still he glanced down at the piece of paper in his hand as if he couldn’t believe it was real. Blaine would be okay with putting up with Kurt outside of this office.

Kurt’s heart fluttered in his chest. When he took it, Blaine beamed at him.

 

* * *

‘Kurt, please stay after class will you?’

Kurt hesitantly glanced up to his Spanish teacher to see him standing in front of the chalkboard with a soft smile on his face, and he nodded meekly. Kurt watched as people slowly left the classroom – their school day was over. Mister Schuester waited until everyone was gone before he closed the classroom door with a soft click and then he walked over to Kurt, pulling up a chair to sit down across him.

‘Kurt are you alright? I’ve been noticing you get… rather nervous, when I tell you guys to form pairs.’

Kurt blinked up at his teacher before he forced himself to smile. Kurt didn’t just become nervous, he panicked when he thought he had to work with one of his bullies. It was why he had excused himself to the bathroom for a while. ‘Ah- yeah, fine. I’m just a bit socially… handicapped. ’

Mister Schuester’s eyes lingered on Kurt’s face for a while, before he slowly nodded. ‘Alright, then. Anything I could do?’

‘No, it’s fine,’ Kurt lied and he forced himself to keep looking him in the eye. Kurt even rose his chin a bit to show that he was confident things would be better even though he wasn’t so sure deep down. He just didn’t want to show any weaknesses.

‘I can’t change the program though, so-’

‘You don’t have to. Not for me, anyway, so… it’s okay, sir. Really. Is that all?’

His teacher looked like he wanted so say something again but in the end he just nodded. He watched as Kurt got up and walked out of the classroom.

Kurt yelped sharply when Azimio, one of his bullies, snuck up on him and tossed a slushie onto his face and laughed at Kurt’s expression. Kurt tried to keep his chin high, until he was in the girls’ bathroom.

And then he started crying.

 

* * *

The first time Kurt Hummel realized he was in love with Blaine Anderson wasn’t until a few months after their first meeting.

He had always felt attracted to the male (he was 26 – he had told Kurt that it was difficult for his coworkers to take him seriously) but the first time he really,  _really_ felt something deeper than attraction for the man was when he opened up a bit to Kurt as well.

‘I used to get bullied as well,’ he had told Kurt one day, when the teen had broken down after telling Blaine about how his bullies had gotten a can of spray paint and sprayed ‘ _Fag_ ’ on his locker, ‘I was 15 when it started, and I was shorter than most kids. I was just finding out I was gay and I constantly got beat up after one of my friends got angry with me and outed me.’

Kurt sniffled and stared at him, feeling his heart constrict in his chest.

‘They outed you?’ he whispered, and Blaine nodded. He had a forlorn expression on his face, the same expression he always wore when Kurt started crying. He never hugged Kurt or patted him on the back, partially because he knew Kurt wasn’t very comfortable with getting touched, and partially because that wouldn’t be very professional.

Outing someone was a horrible thing to do. Kurt didn’t believe in hiding or changing who you really are, but he didn’t believe outing was the right way either. He tried to imagine a Blaine of his own age, a Blaine who was just as hurt as he was and he realized that it hurt his chest to even think about it like that.

Kurt hadn’t called Blaine even though he had his phone number. He had been too shy to do so, too… what, exactly? Kurt didn’t know for sure but he just didn’t want to feel like he was a pest. Blaine had not mentioned it either.

‘And one day, when I went to prom, they just beat me and my friend up and that was the moment when I had enough. I transferred to a private school and never saw any of them again – but… the pain remained. And one day I woke up and I realized that I never wanted to see anyone in pain again. That’s why I became a psychiatrist – to help people cope with their pain.’

Kurt stared at him, tears no longer rolling over his cheeks. He sucked his bottom lip into his mouth. His story sounded so inspiring – and he wasn’t sure if it was a trick to gain something from Kurt, but…

‘Why are you telling me this?’ Kurt asked, and Blaine released a long breath.

Seeing Blaine once a week had truly made life more bearable, although he didn’t like admitting that. He still had his panic attacks, and he still cut himself – but he had been doing it less, and he was slowly becoming more optimistic. Blaine had learned him how to analyze situations and had asked Kurt to keep a diary, in which he would write every time he felt the need to cut so that maybe he’d learn to see a pattern and try to avoid falling into it.

‘Because I want you to see that you didn’t run. You face them every day – and that makes you so strong, Kurt.’ Blaine always did this. Always said those simple things that made Kurt’s breath hitch, and his heart flutter. But up until now he had just thought it had been his natural reaction to people being nice to him since he wasn’t used to that at all… and now…

‘It doesn’t,’ Kurt argued, ‘I’m not  _normal_. People aren’t supposed to harm themselves or be paranoid or get anxiety attacks over small, stupid things and I  _hate_ it.’

‘It’s your way of coping with it. No, it’s not healthy. But neither are people who eat food to comfort themselves or spend hours on the computer to keep themselves from thinking too much about daily life.’

Kurt sucked his bottom lip into his mouth and stared at Blaine for a while, who calmly stared back. His fingers were loosely wrapped around the pen he was holding and the mental image of Blaine, being Kurt’s age, suddenly hit him; he felt horrible when he imagined Blaine going through the same thing Kurt was going through right now.

‘What are you trying to say?’ Kurt asked hesitantly, not sure if he fully understood where Blaine was going.

‘You’re an addict. The adrenaline rush, the feeling of power – you’re addicted to those feelings.’

And he said it just like that. He said it like Kurt was normal, like he understood, and Kurt didn’t know how it happened, but all of a sudden his heart throbbed in his chest when he looked at Blaine. He was absolutely gorgeous and Kurt’s eyelids fluttered shut as he tried to gather himself, but it had no use.

_Oh God… was… was Kurt in love with him?_

‘Are – are we done for this week?’ Kurt asked, because he needed time. Needed time to sort out his thoughts. Blaine was gay as well. He had gone through the same things as Kurt – at least that was  _some_ progress from where he had only liked straight guys before.  _Yet it didn’t make a damn difference at all._

Blaine seemed a bit taken aback by that, before he glanced at his watch.

‘We still have 15 minutes left, though,’ he said and he frowned a bit at Kurt who reached for his bag. Kurt shrugged.

‘I have a test coming up tomorrow, and I need to study.’

Blaine just nodded and let him go. Kurt missed the disappointed look in his eyes.

 

* * *

Kurt masturbated for the first time the following night.

Blaine had told him to try and find things that made him get the same rush he got out of cutting – something he could do instead of it, something that was good for him. Kurt wasn’t perverted or thought a lot about sex, really, he was different from the boys of his age. But he had gone online to see if there were any tips or activities that would lessen his need to harm himself.

Kurt loved singing and performing, but he couldn’t do that right now with all of the bullying. He wasn’t an artist so he wouldn’t be able to just draw or paint or write whenever he felt the need.

Kurt closed his eyes and tried to imagine that someone who loved him was running his hands down his skin. He felt stupid for doing this. Stupid and perverted and disgusting, and it didn’t help him get hard at all. He only managed to get half-hard and the need to cut himself was overwhelming.

Kurt bit the inside of his cheek. He could do this. He didn’t want to give in tonight.

Kurt was already naked, the only noises audible his own hitching breaths. Kurt hissed when he wrapped his hand around his cock for the first time like this, stroking slowly, trying to tease himself the way he had read online by playing a bit with his nipples. The feeling was overwhelming – he didn’t see stars, it wasn’t instant pleasure, but rather a dull heavy ache that went through his body and a strong  _need_ for something.

He brought another hand down his body to cradle his balls, feeling the thin skin in between  his fingers and moving them slowly. He mewed and his hips started thrusting into his own grip. It was better, now. He could feel pleasure slowly seeping through himself and for the first time in his life, Kurt Hummel felt right. He felt safe in his room with the knowledge that his own hands didn’t hurt himself, that it was possible to actually feel pleasure with a body that was as undesired as can be.

He didn’t know what he was doing at all. His hands were clumsy and his touches were uncertain but that was okay. He felt good.

Kurt thought of brown eyes, of dark hair. He thought of  _Blaine_ doing this to him, talking him through it, touching him and loving him. The thought alone was too much for Kurt and before he knew it his eyes flew open – he couldn’t remember closing them – and he was coming for the first time in his life.

He convulsed on the bed, eyes wide and his mouth open in a silent scream. His heart was hammering in a way that it usually did when Kurt was still on a rush of pain and Kurt welcomed it with open arms, welcomed everything. His body felt too hot and the tightness in his thighs, in his belly, in his  _balls_ disappeared altogether. He had never felt this sated before.

Kurt didn’t dare to admit this to himself but… he felt  _sexy_. Wanted – not guilty at all when he finished. This was normal, right?

Kurt felt dirty for thinking about his therapist like this though. His hands felt sticky, and he felt shame washing over him all at once. How could he do this to Blaine, how could he ever  _look_ at Blaine again?

He cut both his wrists that night to punish himself.

 

* * *

Their weekly appointment had slowly become the light of Kurt’s week.

It was just so nice to sit down with someone who actually seemed to care for him and talk about the things that bothered him.

‘How are you today?’ Blaine asked him, and Kurt smiled. It was genuine now, because the news he could bring Blaine was something he was really proud of.

‘I’m fine. I didn’t cut all week.’ And he hadn’t. It’s been two weeks since he masturbated for the first time, two weeks since he cut himself open so much that he was worried he might have to call for help. The cuts were now healing neatly on his wrists, angry red lines that would soon fade into pale white scars.

Blaine’s eyes widened temporarily before a smile broke onto his face and he didn’t even seem to think much when he stood up and walked over where Kurt was standing and hugged him. Kurt gasped and Blaine quickly retreated, murmuring apologies, but Kurt didn’t mind. His stomach leaped and those stupid butterflies were right back where they belonged, making Kurt blush.

For a moment they just stared at each other, their eyes flicking down each other’s lips every now and then. It was like Blaine was completely amazed by him and Kurt thought to himself that he should stop being so delusional. Blaine was probably just happy to finally see some progress, yet… Kurt licked his lips and something seemed to darken in Blaine’s eyes.

He gulped at the look in them.

‘How are  _you_?’ Kurt asked to break the tension, and Blaine always seemed so surprised when he asked. The man smiled at him.

‘I’m fine, thank you,’ he replied calmly. He started guiding Kurt to the chair where he always sat, sitting down across him.

‘Why are you always so surprised when I ask you how you’re doing?’ Kurt asked, deciding to just pretend their embrace hadn’t happened. He could still feel the remembrance of Blaine’s arms around himself, warm and comforting in a way that even his father’s hugs hadn’t been.  Kurt somehow felt much lighter today even if he had been pushed against lockers and even if Karofsky had been up in his face. Blaine shrugged and sat down as well.

‘You’ve been the only patient in my short career to ask me how  _I’m_ doing, and how my weekend was. It’s nice – you’re making me like you far too much.’

Kurt opened and closed his mouth, unsure of how to reply to that. In the end he just smiled stupidly.

‘Have there been any changes this past week? Something good that happened to you?’ Blaine asked, and Kurt shook his head.

‘No, not really. It’s just…’  _The thought of being capable of telling you that I didn’t hurt myself and seeing you smile like that, like you’re really proud of me and like you’re just really happy with me kept me from doing it,_ ‘I kept myself distracted whenever I felt the need. Like you told me to.’

Blaine smiled at him and his hazel eyes were so warm that Kurt had trouble looking away from them. Seeing Blaine smile like that just really did things to Kurt’s heart. He wished he could stop it.

‘I think it’s time we talk about your future plans, since you’re in such a great mood,’ Blaine said, catching Kurt off guard. So far, all they had discussed had been Kurt’s problems and his past, but never once his dreams or his ideal future. ‘Where do you see yourself in… let’s say, 15 years?’

‘Married. Legally,’ he instantly replied and the thought made him smile. He had been planning weddings ever since he was a young boy; had spent hours imagining what his own wedding would be like and what kind of a husband he’d have.

Husband… the thought of it sounded so surreal. ‘Living in New York.’

Blaine hummed and scribbled it down in his notebook, and Kurt watched his long fingers as he wrote.

‘Dream career?’

‘Singer. Actor. I don’t really care – for as long as I get out of here and can make, well, art, really.’

Blaine blinked up. ‘You can sing?’

Kurt nodded. The only thing he had ever liked about himself had been his voice, even if people had always made fun of it because it was higher pitched than most boys’ voices were. Blaine smiled at him.

‘Maybe you should let me hear it, some time,’ he murmured, and Kurt bit his bottom lip before nodding. Kurt had never really performed in front of anyone before; not because he had lacked the confidence, but because he had always lacked the audience.

Singing in front of Blaine wouldn’t be so scary, though, not if he would look at Kurt the way he did now. Kurt scratched the back of his neck and dared to glance at Blaine’s lips for a while. If Blaine had noticed, he didn’t say a thing about it.

Kurt wished he wasn’t so in love with Blaine. Blaine wished it wasn’t unethical to ask his patient out for coffee.

 

* * *

‘Hi Kurt, how are you today?’ Blaine’s smile faltered the moment he took in Kurt’s swollen lip and red rimmed eyes. There was something red on his shirt too, but to Blaine’s relief it wasn’t blood. It looked like Kurt had spilt a drink on himself.

Or had someone else spilt it on him? Blaine’s fingers tightened around the pen he was holding, trying his best to keep still.

By now, Blaine was already aware of his infatuation with Kurt. He loved Kurt – seeing him like this did strange things to Blaine and it made him want to hide Kurt away from everything and everyone that could cause him harm. He was sad to acknowledge that that just wasn’t possible.

‘I’m – I’m okay,’ Kurt assured him. He sat down in his usual seat, looking awkward. Blaine had gone too far last time, he shouldn’t have hugged Kurt. he could tell that Kurt was uncomfortable.

Kurt picked a bit at his sticky shirt and Blaine swallowed thickly. Kurt’s nipples had stiffened and the soaked shirt did nothing to hide it.

‘How’s your wrist?’ he asked, clearing his throat and forcing himself to look Kurt in the eye again. How did his father not notice this? Did Kurt hide his bruises, his cuts so well?

‘…Fine,’ Kurt hesitantly replied. Something in his tone told Blaine differently and he felt himself sobering up.

‘Kurt?’

‘I did it again. I’m sorry,’ Kurt whimpered as though he expected Blaine to hit him now. But Blaine didn’t do so. He stayed seated to keep himself from touching Kurt the way he wanted to – to keep himself from holding Kurt and rocking him back and forth until he was okay again.

‘Oh, Kurt, is it bad?’ he asked he hoped it wasn’t, and he wished he could make Kurt see how beautiful was. How funny and lovely his personality was, how gorgeous his face was, how desirable his body was… Blaine just couldn’t understand why anyone would hate someone so  _good._

‘I don’t know,’ Kurt choked out. He was hugging his wrist to his chest. Tears were brimming up in his eyes again. He looked so pitiful, like this – his shoulders hunched, his lips quivering, his cheeks flushed.  ‘Blaine – I just need…?’

This time Blaine couldn’t help but get up. Kurt got up too, and Blaine blinked in surprise when Kurt practically threw himself into Blaine’s arms.

There were several things Blaine should worry about, in that moment. One, being – if his secretary would walk in unannounced he’d be in big trouble, because he shouldn’t be holding any patient like this no matter how much they’d beg him to. He should probably worry about his shirt, too, or about the way his body instantly protectively over Kurt who was a bit taller than him, but somehow much  _smaller._

But Blaine didn’t.

Blaine just tightened his arms around Kurt and held him while Kurt silently cried into his neck.

And he decided that no matter what he felt for Kurt, he wouldn’t let it get in the way. He would do anything in his power to fix Kurt, and to help him get through. If he had to break some rules it would only be worth it.

Blaine would do anything to see Kurt smile genuinely, if only just once.

 

* * *

Kurt broke down again the following week and cut his wrist open so badly that his father had to call an ambulance.

Kurt woke up in a hospital bed and he was surprised to see Blaine sitting next to his bed, looking at him with an upset expression on his attractive face that was quickly replaced by one of relief when he noticed Kurt had woken up.

‘Hey,’ he said softly and Kurt merely looked away, glancing around the room. He felt weak and fragile, and he wasn’t sure how he got here. All he could remember was showering, scrubbing himself down until his skin felt raw… Bleeding… ‘Your father called me,’ Blaine murmured as if reading Kurt’s mind, ‘we nearly lost you. You scared us.’

 _Nearly lost me?_ Kurt opened his mouth to ask what that was all about, when all of a sudden he paused. He could feel the blood draining from his face.

He had gone too far. He should’ve known, he should’ve paid more attention to the 10 minute rule – how could he be so stupid? Kurt hadn’t meant to commit suicide, even if he doubted he could make this clear to Blaine. His eyes went from the bag of blood to the band aid Blaine’s arm and he blinked in confusion.

‘We share a rare bloodtype,’ Blaine explained again. He smiled at Kurt, but it wasn’t genuine. Kurt wished he had the power to at least try to smile back at him. He was just so tired… He wondered to himself what it would be like to die, right now. He wondered if it would hurt and if he’d end up in hell, like all of his bullies said he would.

Feeling tears brim up in his eyes for no good reason, Kurt brought up a hand and furiously rubbed at them.

It didn’t help. Nothing did. When would Kurt stop being so weak?

‘Kurt,’ Blaine whispered. He sounded almost pleading. ‘Kurt, please – why didn’t you call me?’

Kurt shook his head and managed a little shrug. Why hadn’t he called? Because it’d been 10 pm. He had no idea if Blaine would’ve been able to help him that night. Kurt hadn’t wanted to disturb him when Kurt already took up enough of Blaine’s time. Blaine should know all these things himself. Kurt couldn’t understand why Blaine had given Kurt his phone number if he knew Kurt wasn’t important enough to call him anyway. It kind of felt like a cruel joke.

‘I wasn’t thinking,’ Kurt managed to say in a thick voice. He felt so many things, but couldn’t come up with a way to come up with them. He felt numbed.

‘You were doing so well, I…’ Blaine trailed off and Kurt didn’t look at him. He felt ashamed enough already. He didn’t need Blaine to make it worse.

‘Where’s my dad?’ God, his dad. He must’ve been so worried and Kurt hoped that he was okay. ‘Is he okay? Is he mad at me?’

‘Your father got angry, but not with you.’ Kurt glanced up at Blaine with a confused look in his eyes. He was shocked to find that Blaine looked like he was close to crying as well. ‘He got mad at me, for not telling him about… Well, you know. And I don’t blame him – I should’ve focused more on giving you the confidence to tell him.’

‘It’s not your f-’

‘Why did you do this to yourself? Do you have any idea – I was so afraid, and you were just lying here like this -’ Blaine cut himself off and turned his head to the side, looking so affected by all of this and Kurt didn’t understand  _why._ Couldn’t fathom why Blaine was here or how he’d find out about Kurt, until he realized that last night it had been a Wednesday. They always met up at Thursdays, and he must’ve called Kurt’s dad to ask where he was when Kurt was late for his appointment, and –

‘I’m so sorry,’ Kurt sobbed and this time he couldn’t keep himself from crying. He felt hideous. He felt horrible for making Blaine worry when he shouldn’t, when Kurt was just a stupid boy. ‘I’m so, so sorry. One of my bullies kissed me, and I was so… I couldn’t do it anymore. I was so disgusted with myself. I didn’t mean to kill myself, I  _swear,_ I just went too far and nothing could help me. I wanted to  _die._ ’

Kurt choked on his breath when Blaine reached over to hold his hand, his warmth seeping into Kurt’s hand, all the way up to his injured wrist. He hated this hospital gown, hated how it didn’t have any long sleeves so Kurt could cover up all his older cuts. Why didn’t he have anything on with sleeves?

‘And- and it’s stupid, but what hurts me most is that I always wanted it to be special, I always wanted to… to have my first kiss with someone like…’ he trailed off and buried his face in his free hand, and Blaine patiently stared at him, his eyes still wide, still tearful themselves. Kurt was a stupid child and it felt like he would never grow up, like he would always be like this. He hated just having to wake up every morning, and he hated going to bed after yet another unproductive day.

‘Someone like who, Kurt?’

‘Someone like you,’ Kurt said and he sobbed again, feeling pathetic and useless. Blaine’s eyes widened but Kurt didn’t care. He had nothing left to lose, did he? Nothing was going to improve or make his life worse. Kurt would always be like this. He would never be  _more_ than this. ‘I’ve been in love with you for so long and whenever I wanted to hurt myself I thought of you and – and it helped sometimes. And I  _hate_ it. Hate it so much because you don’t like me and it  _hurts_ and-’

‘Kurt.’

Kurt stopped talking, but he couldn’t help the whimpers that slipped past his lips every now and then. He took the tissue Blaine offered him and rubbed at his cheeks with it, but stubbornly clung onto Blaine’s hand. Why wasn’t his dad here?

‘I like you too, Kurt. God, I’ve loved you since the moment we met, and it’s torture seeing you like this – every week I couldn’t sleep after having to hear what people did to you, but you’re my patient, I can’t…’

Kurt was certain Blaine was lying. He was certain that he was only saying this because he didn’t want to make Kurt’s depression worse.

But Kurt was still a child. And it didn’t stop the hope flaring up in his chest.  He wiped his nose and inhaled a shaky breath. ‘Then I’ll stop being your patient, and then we’ll-’

‘No. No, Kurt, things don’t work that way.’ Blaine sighed and brushed a strand of hair away from Kurt’s eyes. Kurt could feel his heart sinking again and he wasn’t sure what was worse – the burn in his wrists or hearing Blaine tell him no. Turned out the situation  _could_ get worse.

‘Listen…let’s just focus on getting you better, okay? And then we’ll figure something out. For as much as I like you – which I really do, I swear – your health needs to come first.’

And no matter how Blaine was putting it, it still felt like rejection. An empty promise to keep Kurt from causing too much trouble.

Kurt turned his head away and sucked on the inside of his cheek to keep himself from making more of a fool out of himself. When Blaine’s hand brushed over his cheek, Kurt visibly flinched for the first time at his touch.

‘Kurt, please,’ Blaine murmured. ‘Try to understand it from my point of view -’

‘Alright, let’s do that,’ Kurt said, turning his head all of a sudden and feeling bitter. He looked Blaine in the eye, who looked a bit surprised at his sudden decision. ‘Your pathetic, teenage patient who has mental disorders of which he can’t even pronounce the names right just confesses to be dependent of the little fantasy of a perfect world where he and you can be together just to keep himself from cutting up his arm. You probably think he’s a freak and you’re just trying to do your work so-’

‘Kurt-’

‘- you just pretend to give a rat’s ass because you don’t want him killing himself because you think he can’t handle the actual rejection. But you know what,  _Blaine?_ ’

Blaine looked  _hurt_ , and Kurt didn’t know how that was possible, but it made his own heart ache, and he couldn’t stop himself from saying those words, ‘I don’t need this. I don’t need  _you_ telling me that things will be okay or better because they  _won’t_. Not until I finally man up and just suck it up. Isn’t that it? And we won’t have a future together regardless of what I do or say because you’re just  _not_  into me.’

Blaine opened and closed his mouth, looking shocked and unbelievably sad. Kurt pressed a hand against his face to hide the tears pouring down it again. It felt like something had just snapped inside of him. He realized that it was probably what it must feel like to have your heart broken.

‘Just go,’ he whispered, feeling heartbroken and sick to his stomach and suddenly just so tired. Blaine’s hand touched his own, but he didn’t flinch, he didn’t even move away or into it. He did nothing.

‘Kurt, you’ve got it so wrong,’ Blaine started, but Kurt shook his head.

‘ _Go_ , you don’t have to lie anymore,’ Kurt insisted. He dropped his hand and looked at Blaine, feeling those stupid hot tears still run down his cheeks. He hated how much he cried in front of this man. Hated how this man always made him believe that things would be okay, giving him cruel, false hope, making him feel that things were already going to the right direction –

‘But I’m  _not_ lying,’ Blaine stubbornly stated and he looked so young when he ran a hand through his gelled hair. ‘I like you – I like you so much it just  _hurts_ having to listen to you speak about how much pain you’re in and not being capable of doing anything but watch you cry like that and it just breaks my  _heart_.’

Blaine took hold of Kurt’s hand and pressed his face into it, releasing a deep breath. Kurt stared at him, his lips trembling. Blaine shook his head, maybe to himself, maybe to Kurt. He allowed himself a wry smile.

‘But I told myself that I had to be a professional, that I couldn’t allow my credibility to be tainted by a fling with one of my patients. It just quickly felt like it was so much more but attraction – I want to hold you, I have been wanting to kiss you for so long… but even if you feel the same way I do, I need to do my job, Kurt. I need to make you better. I need to fix you. Not for myself. For  _you._ I owe you this. You came to me for help, now let me do my job. Let me help.  _Please._ ’

Kurt whimpered when Blaine leaned forward and pressed a kiss against his forehead.

‘You move me, Kurt,’ Blaine whispered. ‘If anything, these extra therapy sessions will be an excuse to spend more time with you.’

Blaine moved away from Kurt and Kurt wished he had the strength to ask Blaine to kiss him properly in a way Karofsky never could, in a way that would  _count,_  but he didn’t and he couldn’t. Instead Kurt just kept staring at him, watching as Blaine kissed the back of his hand.  _Like a prince,_ Kurt vaguely thought to himself, remembering all the Disney movies he used to watch,  _he’s not treating me like I’m fragile, like he can’t touch me the way he wants because he thinks I’ll fall apart. He’s treating me with respect because he thinks I deserve it._

Kurt swallowed thickly. He wanted to say something, anything, but the door opened and Blaine let go of Kurt’s hand. His father walked in and hugged Kurt so hard he thought he felt his bones protest.

‘You are  _never_ going to do that again, do you hear me?’ Burt stated, his voice thick with emotions. Kurt blinked back a fresh wave of tears and focused on Blaine instead.

Blaine’s fingers brushed over Kurt’s one last time before he stood up.

‘I’ll be back some time tomorrow. Good day, mister Hummel.’ Burt didn’t acknowledge him. He only had eyes for his son. As for Kurt, he basked in how loved he felt.

Maybe things wouldn’t be this bad forever. Maybe he could have a future with Blaine, some day.

 

* * *

**5 years later**

**New York**

Moving to New York wasn’t like Kurt had expected it to be.

His first apartment in New York had been small, almost too small for just one person to live in, and it cost a lot of money. His walls had been paper-thin, his neighbors had been loud – he often couldn’t get a decent amount of sleep.

The days he worked at the local coffee shop were long and exhausting and he didn’t even get paid a lot for it. Even though the New York city lights had been beautiful Kurt had found himself slipping into a daily routine again. He had often called up his dad to remind himself why he was still in this place.

His dreams were worth all of this.

The apartment he was currently moving boxes into was a bigger, now that he could afford it, and the furniture he had picked out was nice. His couch was soft and his bed was big enough to house two people in, even if he had slept alone in it so far. The money he had made from his first album had been enough to buy him all this luxury; from the flat screen tv to the designer clothes he was wearing.

Kurt sighed and put the box down.

That had all gone according to plan. He still couldn’t believe how lucky he had been that one night when he had been singing in a bar and Lady Gaga had actually sat there, listening to him. He hadn’t even known she went to bars in the first place – she had always been such a godlike creature in his eyes that it was hard to imagine her going anywhere besides shows and stages, really.

She had loved his voice and they had recorded a duet and well… the rest had been history. He had been capable of moving out of the crammy apartment he had first moved into, and everyone back in Ohio had been so proud of him.

_Everyone…_

He glanced down at his watch and sighed. Three more hours.

Frankly, he couldn’t wait.

Absentmindedly running his fingertips over his scarred wrist, he thought back of all the small kisses that had been pressed against each and every scar with delicate precision. He smiled and crouched down next to a box, having some difficulty opening it. As he started singing to himself, he thought of how far he had come, how good life had been for him.

All he had to do was open his eyes and see what had been in front of him all along. It was almost frightening how closed up he’d been, how close to quitting he’d been.

Kurt paused his singing when he heard a familiar jingle of keys, his head whipping around.

Blaine was standing in the doorway, and Kurt abandoned the box instantly. Blaine smiled at him when Kurt all but threw himself into his lover’s arms.

‘I – Blaine,’ he stammered stupidly. ‘You’re early!’

He pressed his nose deep into Blaine’s neck and inhaled his smell. Blaine smelt of coffee and cookies and  _home_ – it was the most amazing scent Kurt’s ever smelt. Blaine’s arms were strong and certain around his body and Kurt wished in that moment that he would never ever have to leave this place. He wished they could stay like this forever.

‘Surprise,’ Blaine dryly said, and he kissed the side of Kurt’s face. ‘I missed you so much I took an earlier flight. Sorry it took me a few days.’

‘It’s fine,’ Kurt assured him. He pulled away and pressed a long, lingering kiss on Blaine’s lips. ‘Come, I need you to help me unpack – that is, if you’re not too tired?’

‘I brought you roses, by the way. And I’m okay Kurt, I promise.’

And they were okay. After all they went through, after all they had said and done, there wasn’t a cloud in their sky.

The future was bright. Kurt’s wrists had remained unharmed for three years and five months and even if his scars sometimes made people look at him in a weird way, Kurt was happy.

He would stay that way for the rest of his life, with Blaine by his side.


End file.
